


Oh Snow

by Twilighthawke



Series: Wil and Cro Hawke [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, alternate title: fenris is a big giggly baby, alternate title: losers have some fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 22:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4454915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilighthawke/pseuds/Twilighthawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Snow

Kirkwall winters were not friendly. Winters in Ferelden were nothing to sneeze at. But Hawke was not prepared for a winter by the sea. She spent her first year shivering in whatever winter clothes she could steal. The next year she must have bought every scarf and blanket in Kirkwall. But it was in her third year that Hawke could finally enjoy the snow.

Snow in Ferelden usually just appeared in large quantities and stayed there in knee-high drifts until the middle of summer. In Kirkwall, snow fell softly, turning the day a soft grey and lighting up the night in deep purples. It clung to the cobblestones like dust, making walking a slippery affair.

Hawke watched snow fall one night, her thoughts consumed by other things that were white. Fenris was squatting in a mansion a block away. She wondered how he kept warm. Alone in a mansion owned by his greatest enemy. Thinking of him, and watching the snow, brought old memories to mind, memories of a time just after they came back from the Deep Roads.

Hawke bought a bottle of something alcoholic and sat outside the house currently filled with slavers or whatever. That's where Fenris found her.

Hawke was near incapable of holding her liquor. This night was no exception. Fenris approached her on the bench outside the estate formally owned by the Amells.

"Hawke?" He stood a good ways off from her.

Hawke grinned the grin of the heavily inebriated and made a sweeping gesture to the seat next to her.

"Fenrish," she slurred. "Care to join me for a drink?"

Fenris regarded the woman in front of him. Then, to Hawke's drunken surprise, he sat next to her. She handed him the bottle. He took a drink and made a face.

"Gross, right?" Hawke asked and giggled.

"I don't drink wine for the taste," Fenris said wryly.

"Oh?" Hawke leaned her chin on her hands and looked over at the elf. "Why do you drink wine then?"

"I served some of Tevinter's best some of the most expensive vintages in the world," Fenris explained. "Slaves were not allowed to taste it, ever." Pointedly, he took another drink. "So I take the most expensive looking bottle I can find, and I drink it out of spite." He smiled an entirely satisfied smile and Hawke had to laugh.

"I'm not drinking for taste either," she giggled. "I'm celebrating."

"Celebrating what, pray tell?" Fenris took another drink.

"Why, my health, of course." Hawke made a grab for the bottle, but her heart wasn't in it and Fenris held it out of her grasp, taking another drink for himself.

"Yes, your health," Fenris said dryly. "And you are doing that in the middle of Hightown instead of at the Hanged Man with Varric or in the comfort of your own home because..." He trailed off pointedly.

"Pfft," Hawke made a rude sound. "There is no comfort at home."

Fenris frowned a little and Hawke stole the bottle back from him. She just held it, eyeing the rest of the liquor inside.

"Mother blames me," she said after a moment of silence. "For Bethany being taken to the circle." She took a drink and made a face, then took another drink. "Bethany blames me too, but she's in the circle and can't do anything about it." Hawke giggled.

"Does your Mother," Fenris asked, "do anything about it?" He reached for the bottle slowly, if only just to get it away from her. She jerked it out of reach.

"Mother told me, in no uncertain terms," she said, chugging half of the remaining contents, "that I was not to come home." She wiped a hand over her mouth.

There was a moment of silence as Fenris processed this information. Hawke watched her hands. She seemed to have a lot of them. They were also turning an odd color.

"Ever?" Fenris asked eventually.

"I don't know," Hawke laughed bitterly. "This isn't the first time she's told me to bugger off like this, she got over it the first time." She shrugged.

"What happened the first time?" Fenris asked, without thinking.

Hawke smiled an empty smile.

"When she held my dead baby brother in her arms," she said. "She told me it was my fault." Hawke clutched the bottle like a lifeline as she bit out the words. "She... She wouldn't even let me touch him."

She was crying, large, hot tears sliding down her face. She was silent though, her sobs making no sound even as her shoulders shook.

Gently, Hawke felt the bottle being pried from her fingers. A hand on her back and another in her belt lifted her to her feet. She mumbled but was too lost in the drink to do much else.

Fenris had let her stay in his house that night. She was violently ill a few hours later, a side effect of not being able to handle your liquor at all. Through it all, Fenris never snarled at her to get out. He didn't sing a happy song, but that was Fenris’ way.

 

Now, staring out at the snow Hawke came to a decision and she made her way to the front door, snatching her cloak on the way out. The snow was soft, but the night was still cold.

Immediately, she began to rethink her decision. It was o-dark-thirty. He was probably sleeping. She told herself that Fenris was fine and wouldn't thank her for worrying. She pushed on.

Three knocks on the door. The side door. She wasn't sure she could find the front door if she tried. This was the door they had kicked down when they were hunting Danarius. She actually smiled at the memory.

After what seemed like an eternity, and Hawke was about ready to turn around and go home, the door opened a crack.

"Hawke?" A low voice on the other side said; he sounded surprised. The door opened wider to show a still completely armored Fenris holding his stupidly massive sword. He looked confused and maybe a bit wary.

"Is there danger?" he asked, putting his sword to one side.

"Only hypothermia if you keep me out here any longer." Hawke grinned, rubbing her arms for the full effect. Fenris raised an eyebrow, but Hawke could see him smiling that faint smile of his.

He nudged the door open further, an invitation. Hawke scurried inside. The house wasn't much warmer on the inside than it had been on the street. Fenris still had that expression of mixed confusion and apprehension, but led the way into his house, up the stairs and through a door. Finally, the cold dissipated. There was a fire burning cheerfully in the hearth. There was a bed in the corner.

"Is this the only room you heat?" Hawke asked, turning to look at Fenris, who was closing the door behind them.

"You came over in the dead of night to criticize my housekeeping skills?" Fenris asked, smirking.

"You've caught me," Hawke grinned, throwing her hands up in surrender. "I'm with the neighborhood council, you haven't been weeding your garden and I'm here to bring them your head."

"They are not the first to try," Fenris quipped.

Hawke sat on one of the seats by the fireand leaned towards the flame. She stared absently into the flames and was strangely reminded again of that night one year previous, outside her ancestral home.

Hawke blinked away the memory and looked at Fenris, who was still standing near the door. She grinned and cocked an eyebrow.

"Frightened of a little snow bird in your room?" She wiggled her eyebrows and Fenris rolled his eyes.

"Why are you here, Hawke?" There was no accusation in his voice. He was curious, but not irritated. That was a good sign at least.

"Would you believe I was kicked out of the Hanged Man and lost my door key?" Hawke asked without much hope.

"I'm beginning to think I summoned you with my thoughts," Fenris said. Hawke wasn't sure she had heard him right. He had a resting face that looked permanently pissed off, so it was sometimes hard to tell what he was thinking. Although Hawke noticed he smiled a lot more when they were alone.

"You..." she started hesitantly. "You think about me?" She wasn't sure what she thought about that. Excited, probably.

"Often, when the snow falls like this." Fenris sat on the bench across from her, regarding her with a thoughtful expression.

"I remind you of snow?" Hawke asked very quietly, as if she would scare him away if she talked too loud.

"You remind me of many things," Fenris smirked. "But when it snows it reminds me of my first winter in Kirkwall."

Hawke's brow furrowed, trying to recall what he was talking about. When she realized what it was, her eyes grew wide. She grinned a frankly rude smile and Fenris' eyes crinkled in a way that might as well have been a full on laugh from him.

"Do you wanna do that again?" Hawke scooted towards him, eyes sparkling with mirth and mischief.

"Now?" Fenris raised an eyebrow, but it was a challenge, not an admonishment.

"Is there a better time to do it?" Hawke was nearly in his lap, she was so excited. Fenris considered her proposition for exactly two seconds before he nodded and the two of them moved in a rush to the door.

They made an odd pair. A pale, dark haired woman in a red cloak, followed closely by a dark skinned elf with hair as white as the snow. Not that there was anyone out to witness them scurry through the streets.

"Sure you can handle this?" Hawke called over her shoulder once they'd started climbing. "I know how heavy on your feet you warriors are."

Fenris muttered words in Tevene that she didn't understand but guessed weren't in the Chant of Light.

They got to the top of the barber shop with minimal cursing. Once at the top, they stopped to admire the view and definitely not to catch their breath. It was so late as to be early morning at this point and the snow was still falling. Hawke turned to grin at Fenris.

"Ready?" she asked, challenge in her eyes.

Fenris rolled his eyes and jumped. He slid down the steep slope of the roof, headed for the awning just below it. Hawke laughed and jumped after him. From the awning of the barber, it was an easy leap to the awning of the haberdashery next door. The roof of the butcher's shop was lower than he awning of the haberdashery , so naturally that was the next leap.

The two of them made it most of the way down the market district, bouncing and sliding alternatively, before they ran out of awning and hill. Fenris slowed down while Hawke did not. With a thud and more cursing the two of them fell into a snow drift.

"Ow..." Hawke moaned, sitting up. She discovered that she had landed on Fenris' leg and quickly resituated herself.

"Now I remember why we never did that again." Fenris stayed lying in the snow drift. Hawke leaned over his face, short hair hanging in her face.

"Did you fall and hurt your pride?" she asked in an exaggerated pouty voice.

Fenris hit her in the face with a handful of snow.

**Author's Note:**

> first thing with Fenris, the stoic asshole. look, im just not sure about that forever brooding facade he puts up. i keep thinking about how he laughs when theyre alone. so i thought this up. (the drunk bit is actually from the Hawke where everything was awful forever shhhhhhhhhhh)


End file.
